The universe works on a math equation that never even ever really even is any end. Infinity spirals out creation. We're on the tip of its tongue, and it is saying:
We ain't sure where you stand. You ain't machines and you ain't land. And the plants and the animals, they are linked. And the plants and the animals eat each other.
Alternately titled, Confessions of a Serial Blogger
AllMyNamesAreTaken
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Name: Sacha Lynn
Birthday: 10/25/1989
Gender: Female


Interests: Languages, music, writing, work, reading, basketball, traveling. Stuff like that. I've got plenty more.
Expertise: I'm a writer of eight years, and a Microsoft Paint veteran lmao. I have also studied about 12 languages so I know a little about a lot and a lot about a little.

Occupation: library technician, writer
Industry: library


Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM: Casky the Great
MSN: noctiluka@thedarktower.net
Yahoo: lotusmadder
MSN: I have Skype; msg me & ask for it though


Member Since: 9/6/2004
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Martinsburg High School
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"Your" does not mean "You are"
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The Dark Tower
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Monday, February 08, 2010

So we're talking about mood disorders in abnormal psych this week... we talked about major depressive disorder and dysthymia today. Fucking ridiculous, I cried a little in class. I need to go to the psych clinic, I need to talk to someone who it won't hurt me if they don't care because they aren't supposed to and they don't have to. But I can't bring myself to set up the appointment. 'Cause my mood changes so drastically, what if I call while I'm feeling hopeless and then the appointment comes and I just don't give a fuck? Most of the time I'm indifferent to my own suffering. I just deal with it, because that's life. But sometimes I break down and I really really want and recognize that I need help. If I didn't know so much about it I'd say I had multiple personalities. Haha.... But I definitely don't feel OK. Well, I can feel OK, but not really good. I have OK days, but mostly it's bad days and worse days. I'm going through the motions. I fucking hate everything. I'm sick of eating, I hate all the food - I do it because I know I have to, but for the most part... I give up. I quit. Game over. I quit. I need help.


Friday, February 05, 2010

I'm tired of feeling empty.


Monday, February 01, 2010

Realizing Martinsburg sucks

I realize Martinsburg is a terrible abyss, but I can't believe so many people are resorting to the military to get out of Dodge when there are other ways - especially when they're smart enough to get through college! Like ... don't they realize there are other schools in other places out there? Or you can work your ass off, line up a new job in another city, and move there the old-fashioned way if you're really THAT miserable. It's not that I have anything against the military, but I hate to see people essentially give up a minimum of 4 years of their lives to some branch of the military just to get out of Martinsburg. Especially when you can end up staying in the area anyway.

I honestly don't understand staying in Martinsburg, or anywhere near it, because it really IS abysmally terrible and even I am moving the fuck away from there as soon as possible - but I think considering the military (not actually going in - but considering it) is a cop-out. If you have other options, you should try them first and go military last. You can always drop out of college -- hell, you can go to college elsewhere, get a job, and eventually get an apartment and quit college if you really wanted to - but it's not that easy in the military. Unless you chicken out in boot camp, you're under a contract to stay in. If it's not really what you want to do, there are better options. Really.

It just makes me sad to see smart people go into the military out of desperation to get out of the area. I got out and it didn't have anything to do with the military. So could most of the people I know.

--

After college, I'm going to apply to jobs preferably where I want to live but possibly just at home until I have the money to pay for an apartment. Then I'm moving to New York City, or at least somewhere close so I can hit the city on weekends. End result being hopefully that I can buy a house somewhere so I can have pets. I don't really care what I do for a living, though I'm in radio/TV so I'm assuming that's where I'll be (though I recently heard about this job function called a frequency coordinator - someone who makes sure all the remotes for sporting events are all on different frequencies, so there's no interference - that sounds bitchin', though totally not really what I'm wasting 4 years of my life in college for. Hahaha). My basic goal is to get out of Martinsburg and closer to somewhere I can meet better people, etc. etc. No matter what I do or where I go, I will NOT stay in the shithole that is West Virginia. End of bitterness and disgust, etc.


Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Detweet: 9:13 AM Dec 14th, 2009 from txt

I had a dream about little Brett and Dr. Reid. They worked for a store run by the mob until Reid was sent to kill a woman and her daughter. He helps them escape and they move to the coast. Reid takes the daughter to a store in the mob chain and runs into Brett working there..


Thursday, January 21, 2010

Trouble With Actual Organs A1: Futuradio

The alarm on the computer blared. "Ten fifty-five!" it cried in a nasally voice, after its initial harsh beep. "Euphonia Beat starts in five minutes!" After a few seconds, it declared the time again.

In the kitchen, Ellysia opened the refrigerator and took a can of peach soda from a box on the shelf. She closed the fridge with her foot as she popped the tab on the soda can. "Coming," she said. "Bernie: stop."

Bernie the alarm shut up mid-sentence. Everything in the apartment was still, and there was silence save for the ticking of the little wooden clock on the kitchen counter and the hum of the computer in the corner beyond the kitchen. "Better better," Elle said to herself, chugging half the can of soda. She wasn't particularly looking forward to spending the next hour with the radio, but it was just one more show—then Thursday and Friday: her two desperately needed, well-deserved days off. After engineering Ben Dekker's shift in which he attempted to validate every conspiracy theory floating around in space, all Elle wished for was time away from loony on-air personalities.

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